HOME | DD

Description

'Two hundred Dirhams on the tall blonde.'

There was something in Dion's voice, something slightly too casual, that made Hassan hesitate. He narrowed his eyes, looking even more closely at the four glamorous young women who were being ushered into the VIP area.

It certainly wasn't a chore. The female brunch guests - glossy influencers, elegant executives, socialites, actresses and trophy wives - were one of the perks of working at the Qasr Al Jamal. It was barely midday, and already the outdoor area was full of wealthy western beauties, posing for selfies in front of the shimmering fountains, leaning over the wooden bridges to point and coo at the turtles sculling lazily in the turquoise pools beneath. Whichever way Hassan turned, his eyes were treated to the pooch and tease of fashionably plump female bottoms, shifting beneath delicate satins and lifting flimsy beach slips as their owners bent forward to pluck a chunk of sushi here, a slice of cheesecake there, and countless other delicacies from the hotel's forty eight unlimited gourmet cooking stations.

But this woman, this tall blonde... Ah, she was something else! Hassan had only seen her from behind, but it was enough. Endless legs that seemed to glide with an almost ghostly elegance across the marble tiles. Waves of sleek blonde hair gleaming like brightly polished gold in the sun, floating down past delicate shoulders so that the softly curling tips caressed the curve of her lower back, just above the swell of those deliciously full yet perfectly shaped buttocks. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd ignored the bridge leading to the VIP area and simply walked directly over the water.

She was perfect. The closet thing to a goddess Hassan had ever seen.

Which was why Dion's bet seemed so odd. Of the four women, this slender blonde goddess would have been Hassan's last pick. True, she was taller than the others, and she did have a quite... substantial rear end. Hassan's head swaying in sync with her lovely hips, tracking the shifts of that generous rump, which quivered with such tantalising abundance beneath the flimsy mesh of her skirt.

But compared to the others...

'I'm going with the brunette,' he announced confidently, his eyes still fixed on the blonde. And then he swore loudly.

For even before the words had finished leaving his mouth, Hassan's tall ethereal goddess had, with a haughty toss of that lovely golden hair, turned towards her table, presenting a side-profile view.

And suddenly Dion's bet made far more sense.

It seemed so out of place, so inconsistent with her delicate perfection that for a moment Hassan was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. He scrunched them shut, and then opened them again. But it was no illusion. Between the high, splendid bosom and those lean, elegant legs, there sprouted forth from his golden goddess's midriff a fully formed potbelly. Not the enticing softness Hassan had expected. Not the pinched wasp waist he might've dreamed of. A potbelly. A jutting, spoilt, greedy little paunch that puffed up like a roll of dough in a pizza oven as the blonde lowered herself into her cushioned chair, bubbling pudgily over the waistband of her skirt. For the briefest moment she glanced down and scowled at it, as one might scowl at an unwanted pet that had just leapt into one's lap. Then her look of serene self-assurance was back. With another haughty toss of her hair, she turned her attention to the drinks menu that was being handed to her by a snivelling waiter.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

Hope you enjoyed this little snippet! To read the rest and see the full pic please subscribe to my Patreon: www.patreon.com/posts/pre-brun… 👍

You'll also get access to loads of other exclusive stories and pics, some of which feature Amelia, and a big thank you from me for helping me spend more time doing what I love: writing and illustrating stories about plump women 😊 It's just a few dollars per month, and you can unsubscribe any time.

➡️ Amelia is the primary antagonist in my ongoing story: The Perfect Dress. You can read a taster here:

The Perfect Dress - Chapter 1 (teaser)'I just can't believe she'd do this to me!'
The restored Jean-Baptiste armchair wheezed like a resuscitated mummy as Amelia Atwood slung her shapely rump into its silk cushions and crossed her endless legs dramatically.
'To me of ALL people!'
Exhaling furiously through her nostrils, the vanilla-blonde beauty tossed her lustrous tresses and swept up a brimming champagne flute.
Across the marble coffee table, the languorous, lunch-bloated form of Lady Charlotte Atwood stirred in her golden chaise longue. Stretching idly, in a manner that caused her shimmering peach satin bathrobe to rustle and strain around her overblown curves, Lady Charlotte selected a particularly exquisite looking French macaron from one of the many crystal platters of cakes and pastries arrayed before her.
Biting into its gooey centre with an aristocratic crunch, her Ladyship watched the champagne slosh against Amelia’s rose-pink lips, her soft throat tensing with each gulp. Not for the first tim

The full chapter, and two further ones, are available on Patreon. 😊

Description

'Two hundred Dirhams on the tall blonde.'

There was something in Dion's voice, something slightly too casual, that made Hassan hesitate. He narrowed his eyes, looking even more closely at the four glamorous young women who were being ushered into the VIP area.

It certainly wasn't a chore. The female brunch guests - glossy influencers, elegant executives, socialites, actresses and trophy wives - were one of the perks of working at the Qasr Al Jamal. It was barely midday, and already the outdoor area was full of wealthy western beauties, posing for selfies in front of the shimmering fountains, leaning over the wooden bridges to point and coo at the turtles sculling lazily in the turquoise pools beneath. Whichever way Hassan turned, his eyes were treated to the pooch and tease of fashionably plump female bottoms, shifting beneath delicate satins and lifting flimsy beach slips as their owners bent forward to pluck a chunk of sushi here, a slice of cheesecake there, and countless other delicacies from the hotel's forty eight unlimited gourmet cooking stations.

But this woman, this tall blonde... Ah, she was something else! Hassan had only seen her from behind, but it was enough. Endless legs that seemed to glide with an almost ghostly elegance across the marble tiles. Waves of sleek blonde hair gleaming like brightly polished gold in the sun, floating down past delicate shoulders so that the softly curling tips caressed the curve of her lower back, just above the swell of those deliciously full yet perfectly shaped buttocks. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd ignored the bridge leading to the VIP area and simply walked directly over the water.

She was perfect. The closet thing to a goddess Hassan had ever seen.

Which was why Dion's bet seemed so odd. Of the four women, this slender blonde goddess would have been Hassan's last pick. True, she was taller than the others, and she did have a quite... substantial rear end. Hassan's head swaying in sync with her lovely hips, tracking the shifts of that generous rump, which quivered with such tantalising abundance beneath the flimsy mesh of her skirt.

But compared to the others...

'I'm going with the brunette,' he announced confidently, his eyes still fixed on the blonde. And then he swore loudly.

For even before the words had finished leaving his mouth, Hassan's tall ethereal goddess had, with a haughty toss of that lovely golden hair, turned towards her table, presenting a side-profile view.

And suddenly Dion's bet made far more sense.

It seemed so out of place, so inconsistent with her delicate perfection that for a moment Hassan was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. He scrunched them shut, and then opened them again. But it was no illusion. Between the high, splendid bosom and those lean, elegant legs, there sprouted forth from his golden goddess's midriff a fully formed potbelly. Not the enticing softness Hassan had expected. Not the pinched wasp waist he might've dreamed of. A potbelly. A jutting, spoilt, greedy little paunch that puffed up like a roll of dough in a pizza oven as the blonde lowered herself into her cushioned chair, bubbling pudgily over the waistband of her skirt. For the briefest moment she glanced down and scowled at it, as one might scowl at an unwanted pet that had just leapt into one's lap. Then her look of serene self-assurance was back. With another haughty toss of her hair, she turned her attention to the drinks menu that was being handed to her by a snivelling waiter.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

Hope you enjoyed this little snippet! To read the rest and see the full pic please subscribe to my Patreon: www.patreon.com/posts/pre-brun… 👍

You'll also get access to loads of other exclusive stories and pics, some of which feature Amelia, and a big thank you from me for helping me spend more time doing what I love: writing and illustrating stories about plump women 😊 It's just a few dollars per month, and you can unsubscribe any time.

➡️ Amelia is the primary antagonist in my ongoing story: The Perfect Dress. You can read a taster here:

The Perfect Dress - Chapter 1 (teaser)'I just can't believe she'd do this to me!'
The restored Jean-Baptiste armchair wheezed like a resuscitated mummy as Amelia Atwood slung her shapely rump into its silk cushions and crossed her endless legs dramatically.
'To me of ALL people!'
Exhaling furiously through her nostrils, the vanilla-blonde beauty tossed her lustrous tresses and swept up a brimming champagne flute.
Across the marble coffee table, the languorous, lunch-bloated form of Lady Charlotte Atwood stirred in her golden chaise longue. Stretching idly, in a manner that caused her shimmering peach satin bathrobe to rustle and strain around her overblown curves, Lady Charlotte selected a particularly exquisite looking French macaron from one of the many crystal platters of cakes and pastries arrayed before her.
Biting into its gooey centre with an aristocratic crunch, her Ladyship watched the champagne slosh against Amelia’s rose-pink lips, her soft throat tensing with each gulp. Not for the first tim

The full chapter, and two further ones, are available on Patreon. 😊